Lost Companion
by qwardofanima
Summary: -ON HIATUS UNTIL I RE-FIGURE OUT WHERE I WANT THE STORY TO GO- The four inseparables run into some unexpected trouble on their way home from a mission.


Chapter 1: Theives

_A/N: Thank you to Suthern-bell85 for helping with betaing. Much appreciated. :)_

_Disclaimer: Characters belong to Alexandre Dumas._

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A cool breeze swept over the four musketeers as they made their way back to Paris, causing an irrepressible shiver to travel through D'Artagnan's core. He drew the fronts of his cloak together with one hand in an attempt to keep the cold evening air at bay, while using the other to keep a hold on Buttercups' reigns. A glance at his comrades provided him with the comfort of knowing he wasn't the only one getting chilled since it would seem they too had been forced to burrow into the shelter of their capes.

He sighed tiredly and looked up. The sky was gradually making the shift from burnt orange to a diamond studded purple.

He groaned. It was getting late, they'd been traveling since sunrise, and Paris was still a day's worth of riding away, meaning they wouldn't be home until late tomorrow evening. He missed his new home and longed to sleep in his own bed. They'd been camping out on the cold earth during their mission until it ended a week ago, and their trip back to Paris had been exhausting thus far.

Buttercup whinnied, putting his internal bellyaching to rest.

Reaching forward, he patted her neck comfortingly. "I know, girl. It won't be much longer until we stop," he whispered to the mare. "How much farther do you think we have until we reach an inn, Athos?" he asked, almost pleading for news that they would be stopping soon.

Instead of getting a reply from Athos, he instead received one from Porthos. "D'Artagnan," the large man "tsked" reprovingly. "That's not you I hear whining back there. Is it?" he said, clearly trying to give him grief and make him feel like a child. It was all in good humor of course, but the timing was poor and circumstances being what they were, D'Artagnan was not in the mood.

"No," the younger snapped defensively.

Surprised by the curt reply, Porthos couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. He looked at Aramis, demanding an explanation with his gaze. Sadly, the priest merely shrugged. He didn't know where the outburst had come from and couldn't exactly come up with an excuse the action. Porthos shrugged it off and made to tease D'Artagnan again, but was cut off by Athos.

"Let him be, Porthos. It's late and we're all getting tired."

Allowing Athos to block the larger man's attempt at livening things up, helped D'Artagnan realize how childish he'd sounded, and he quickly made to apologize. "Sorry, Porthos. I didn't mean to snap at you like that..." he murmured, trailing off at the end.

Porthos' gaze softened with understanding, a rare sight that threw his three _amis_ for a loop. "Don't worry about it, lad. Athos is right. It's late, and we've not eaten since lunch time."

Pleased with the peacemaking that just took place, Athos offered them all a small comfort by saying, "Well, the inn isn't much farther now. Shouldn't be more than a mile down the road. If we quicken our pace we'll be there in a matter of minutes."

"Well then what are we waiting for? I'm starving and my rump could do with a rest," Porthos joked, his mood restored from the news just given to them.

"Mine too," Aramis admitted with a sheepish smile. He turned to Porthos. "Shall we?" he asked, the hint of a challenge behind the words.

A mischievous grin found its way onto Porthos' face as the idea of a race entered his mind. "Are you challenging the mighty Porthos to a race, padre?"

"It won't be much of a race," the younger man taunted. "But in a way, I suppose you could say that I am indeed doing just that. So what say you, oh 'Mighty Porthos'?" he mocked with a roll of his eyes.

"I say you'd better stop talking, and start trying to catch up!" Porthos laughed, kicked his gelding up to a gallop.

"Hey!" Aramis shouted as he pushed his steed to catch up with the cheater and his horse.

"Idiots," Athos mumbled to himself before following in their stead, leaving D'Artagnan and his mare to do the same.

"You hear that, Buttercup? Just a few minutes more," D'Artagnan confirmed for the white, speckled horse. "You ready to catch up to them?" Buttercup ducked her head once and gave a soft snort in reply. "That a girl," he encouraged before urging her to quicken pace.

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><p>Being small and fairly lightweight had its advantages; especially in horse racing. The less weight a horse has to lug around, the easier it is for them to keep pace and overrun their opponents. Although he and Buttercup hadn't started until after the others, his small stature mixed with her good health ended with a come from behind victory for the pair. For their win, D'Artagnan had received a friendly clap on the back from Porthos and Buttercup's prize had been an apple as a treat from D'Artagnan and a small ribbon tied to her mane, courtesy of Aramis.<p>

The inn was a little ways off the main road and had seemed fairly lonesome, but the strange, three story building proved to have a rather comfortable inside with nice furnishings. There weren't many other people save the owner, his wife, their young son, four well-dressed foreigners sitting on the deck outside, and a group of three shifty eyed drunkards in the back corner of the dining area.

Satisfied with the lodgings they headed out to the stables. There, the four friends had made sure to relieve their horses of their fanny packs and had ordered the stable boy to see to it that their horses were watered and well fed, before going back inside to relieve their own burdens and quiet their growling stomachs.

Now, after filling their bellies and entertaining the owner's young rascal with stories that relayed their grand adventures and daring feats, the four travelers were nestled nicely into the two large cots that took up much of the space in their second story room.

Aramis lay awake for some time after the others had drifted off, using the moonlight to study the room. Hearing a soft moan and a rustle of movement to his right, his gaze shifted to the two lumps in the bed next to him and allowed himself a small smile.

As per their usual sleeping arrangements in cases such as these, he and Porthos shared one bed, continually fighting throughout the night for control of the covers, while Athos and D'Artagnan shared the other, D'Artagnan curled up almost childishly against Athos' broad back in most cases.

He chuckled softly remembering they had at one point tried to put D'Artagnan and Porthos together as it was the most logical choice after taking into consideration the sizes of each of them, but it had been learned early on that D'Artagnan had a tendency to end up snuggled close to whatever warm-blooded creature he was sleeping next to no matter how far away from them he started. And that, mixed with Porthos' tendency to roll over, had proved disastrous, so they were forced to rule out that particular arrangement for fear that the giant would smother the smallest member of their troupe.

Once in a while they would switch it up leaving him and the boy to share a bed, but that was a rare occasion because Athos declared that he would prefer not having to listen to Porthos snore directly into his ear. Aramis however had a suspicion that it was because on those nights, he missed the warm body of D'Artagnan nestled safely next to him.

Another rustle of fabric, the creak of timber, and a contended sigh only served in justifying that suspicion when he saw Athos roll over and pull the boy closer in his sleep. Content with the scene, Aramis finally allowed himself to relax and embraced the darkness that overcame him moments later.

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><p>The front door the inn made a soft creak as Gerard quietly made his way out to the stables. The first thing he did was look to the east. The sun was not yet visible, but the light could be seen coming over the hills, making the sky near the horizon a light blue. Gerard loved this time of day, and had loved it since he was a mere youngling.<p>

It was so quiet and everything was still. The only noise being the chatter of birds as they rushed to feed themselves and their families. Crickets chirping, probably unaware that morning was just around the corner. He was always up before the roosters had a chance to crow. It filled him with pride and an inner peace, and he could never help but appreciate the small things life had to offer.

As the only stable boy his work could be arduous and repetitive, but it was work he couldn't help but enjoy when he got to tend to the horses and see the sunrise every morning. Early risers have all the fun, or so he believed. They saw beautiful sights, and lived every day to the fullest. Life couldn't be better. One of the things awaking early provided that he was most fond of, was the ability for him to take his time with the magnificent beasts, chatting, and making sure they were watered and with full bellies to ride on, should their partners be the type who make a hasty departure in the morning.

His stomach lurched and the gravel under his feet crunched as he came to a sudden stop about ten meters from the stable. He gazed fearfully at the front of the wooden structure. The gate was open and the lock that had once kept the horses safe was lying on the ground.

Gathering what little courage he possessed, he cautiously forced his feet to carry him forward. He knew right away that something was wrong, when the horses started whinnying and snorting as though he were some intruder coming to do them harm.

"Shh," he consoled as he went to each horse individually, stroking their manes to calm them. "It's alright. Shh. It is just I, sweet things. I'm not going to hurt you."

After getting them settled down to mere fidgeting, he made a quick note of how many horses were missing, coming up with a total of seven out of sixteen that had been present last night. They were lucky as far as being robbed of horses went, however he was not allowed much time to dwell on the rather upsetting predicament. Remembering he had a duty to attend to, he quickly fed the remaining horses before taking his leave of them and sprinting back to the inn to inform Julien and Arnaude, the master and mistress he worked for, of the cruel news.

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_A/N: Not the end..._

_Apologies for any OOCness, unnecessary fluff, shortness, and the poor ending to this chapter. It was giving me much grief and I can't even remember the number of times I was forced to write, delete, and rewrite it. Finals are finally over and I got the time to bust out some ideas that have been rolling around dans ma tête. I will be going on vacation the next six days and will thus be nowhere near my computer of the internet, howe'er I still plan to at least try and work on the second chapter. Even if it's just for a minuscule amount of time each day. The plan is for this to be a four parter, and next post may not be until after the new year. I hope everyone has a pleasant Christmas and Happy Holidays._

_Thanks for reading and any concrit or reviews will be pleasantly accepted._

_Arrivederci!_

_- qoa_


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